Ravenna Gardens and the Return of Greyback
by DarkDilligence
Summary: Voldemort is gone. The Battle of Hogwarts is in the past. With Harry Potter and his new wife, Ginny Weasley, receding into seclusion, the Wizarding world can breathe a sigh of relief. Until ex-Death Eaters start showing up, alive and well.
1. Prologue

It had been years since the term, 'The Boy Who Lived' graced the cover of the Daily Prophet. The Age of Harry Potter and his spectacular defeat of He Who Could Now Be Named were both in the past, and since then he had receded into happy seclusion (unless you count the short article in the Quibbler covering Harry's marriage to Ginny Weasly—the two had explicitly forbade any Prophet journalists to attend, but were happy to allow Luna Lovegood, of whom had taken over her father's business, an exclusive interview). The Wizarding world had settled into a contended, happy era, one where attacks on friends and family was not commonplace, and Muggle-borns (no doubt with the help of the late Albus Dumbledore's prodigious work) were safe once more. It was as if the world had shed its' old skin, sighed, and donned a shiny, new veneer.

Therefore, it was understandable that many witches and wizards were sufficiently disturbed when, last Wednesday, the Daily Prophet's cover read 'The Girl Who Lived,' and, underneath, in smaller, yet no less disturbing text, 'Are THEY back?'

THE GIRL WHO LIVED

Are THEY back?

By Rita Skeeter, Senior Journalist

Early Tuesday night, Ravenna Gardens of Knightwood Lane, was walking home from the market. A handsome girl of twenty-nine, the Hogwart's graduate (Ravenclaw) and Auror-In-Training clutched a modest grocery bag to her breast, prepared to cook dinner for her loving parents.

Little did she know, as her slightly shabby shoes carried her over the concrete, that her world was about to change forever.

Poor Ravenna (or Ravvie, as she likes to be called, sources close to the family told me), was brutally savaged not ten steps from her front stoop by none other than the werewolf and ex-Death Eater, Fenrir Greyback. While Ravenna was attacked by an un-transformed Greyback, the girl still suffers horrific disfigurations and possibly lethal side-effects. "He came out of nowhere. I thought I was going to die. All I could think was… I would never see the sun again," intones the dark-haired Half-Blood, tears spilling down her paled cheeks. "I thought he was dead. Wasn't he?"

Apparently not, this reporter has discovered.

Now, with Greyback's return, no doubt the Ministry of Magic will soon be flying to Azkaban to pore over their records. How many Death Eaters, thought dead or imprisoned, are unaccounted for? Where are the bodies? Has there been a count? And what does Greyback's return mean?

For the sake of one sad little girl, this reporter hopes Kingsley Shacklebolt, to-date exemplary Minister of Magic, will be prodded into action.

CONTINUED ON PAGE THREE

If one desired to turn to page three, one would find there, snug between paragraphs detailing Greyback's history with Lord Voldemort, sordid descriptions of Gardens' accident, and Azkaban's lack of a filing system, was a nearly life size picture of Ravenna Gardens. The girl was not crying, her jaw set determinedly as if to challenge anyone to laugh at the gash on her cheek. She looked fierce, and it was heartbreaking.

As the Wizarding world slumbered that night, their dreams were drastically more unsettling then they had been in many years.


	2. Hippocrates Smethwyk's Work is Done

Ravenna Gardens currently sat propped up by a multitude of squishy pillows, nearly disappearing between one shaped like a giant heart, and another that had disappearing and reappearing stitched letters that constantly changed colors and read, "Get well soon!" The witch was hunched over the Daily Prophet, poring over the article that had recently been written about her. As she flipped to page three, Ravenna's face slowly began to scrunch up more and more, causing the gash on the left side of her face to sting painfully. Ravenna could deal with that pain; it was the article that had her peeved.

When Ravenna had agreed to sit through an interview with a Daily Prophet journalist, she had no clue what would come from it. If anything, she had hoped that it would simply alert the public that Greyback was alive, and that new security measures should be taken. But what she thought would be a small article on page twelve had turned into a full journalistic fiasco. Rita Skeeter had barely allowed Ravenna to answer any questions—Skeeter simply sat there, staring at Ravenna with an annoying, simpering, apologetic look while her acid-green quill did all the writing for her. "Never see the sun again?... I was certainly _not_ crying!..." mumbled Ravenna angrily.

Ravenna did not want to be the Girl Who Lived. She did not want this attention. In fact, Ravenna had never really wanted attention. Although the girl had been one of the brightest in her class during her time at Hogwarts, she had been exceedingly quiet about it. After all, being in Ravenclaw already gave her the know-it-all badge… she hadn't felt the need to prove it. Ravenna had been perfectly happy to ace her O.W.L. and N.E.W.T exams without much ado, and, in the meantime, had enjoyed a modest to unexceptional social life. Nothing about her time at Hogwarts had been extraordinary, and that was fine with Ravenna. And, as she had transitioned from being a student to an Auror-In-Training, the female humbly took to her work with tranquil diligence, pleased to have the opportunity to help her fellow magical denizens without having to be incredibly social about it.

Sighing, Ravenna let the paper fall from her hands and flutter to her lap, peering over at the side-table next to her bed and surveying the humble collection of get well cards and candies wryly. Even if she had had an appetite (which Skeeter's article had completely taken away) her younger brother Phillibert had consumed the majority of pasties and licorice wands during his frequent visits with their parents. Lucy and Bernard Gardens had taken to sleeping at Ravenna's bedside the first week of her stay at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. After that first week, however, Ravenna had grown increasingly irritated by her mother's constant tears and father's inability to speak (whenever the man opened his mouth, a sound more like a dog being strangled came out), and had insisted they spend their evenings at home. She knew she was being calloused; after all, Ravenna was Lucy and Bernard's only daughter. It was understandable that they wanted to be at her bedside. But—well, it was difficult to explain. Something had happened to her, something horrible, yes, but something that no parent or healer could help her with.

Ravenna wasn't a werewolf, to be sure. But she wasn't entirely human anymore. As her time at St. Mungo's neared three weeks, Ravenna was beginning to feel differently. As if there was a constant itch beneath her skin. Food tasted strange. She found herself growing angry extremely quickly. Some sounds were nearly unbearably loud. And it couldn't be fixed, and she didn't know who to turn to for help.

Ravenna felt incredibly alone. She felt she should be thankful for being alive, for not being a fully-fledged werewolf. But she wasn't. She was just… angry.

Hippocrates Smethwyk, the healer who was in charge of overseeing Ravenna, shuffled in, his lime green robes clashing magnificently with his purple hat. Peering down at her with a sympathetic look that Ravenna was guiltily beginning to loathe, he spoke. "And how are we today, young lady?"

"Fine, thank you."

"Any undue pain?"

It's all undue, Ravenna thought. "No," however, was her dutiful answer.

And then came the statement that came every day, and every day, Ravenna had to brace herself: "Alright, Miss Gardens, let's take a look at that leg.

Obeying silently, Ravenna leaned forward and whipped aside the bed linens that were covering her, revealing one healthy right leg, and one savaged left leg.

When Fenrir Greyback had attacked Ravenna, he had forgone disfiguring her face after several seconds and had focused his energy on destroying whatever means she had to escape. It was the wolf in him—to bring down the prey in the most efficient manner. If Ravenna's father hadn't heard the commotion and sent a timely jinx Greyback's way through the front window, both legs might have been injured. Ravenna peered down with mild disgust at her leg. From mid-thigh to ankle were heinous gashes, most healed. The scars were thick and ropey, a telltale sign that the damage had not simply been superficial: the muscles in her leg had been ripped apart. Smethwyk, a skilled healer, had managed to mend Ravenna's leg, but there was only so much he could do. Ravenna would have to use a cane the rest of her life.

"Oh, very good, very good. No more bleeding, that's a good sign, young lady!" piped Smethwyk, jotting down something on a notebook with a quill that matched his hat.

Ravenna bit her tongue, swallowing an angry retort. Her anger was foreign, strange. Anger was a new flavor for her, and the metallic taste wasn't pleasant. But, for the time being, she was able to quell her new emotions as she looked at the old man. "Good sign? In what way?" she asked haltingly.

"It means that my job is done! Tomorrow, you can go home!" he trilled happily, as if it were simply the most spectacular thing in the entire world.

Home.

Ravenna though of the small flat she rented above a bookstore in Diagon Alley, and of her birthplace in Knightwood Lane. Neither of them seemed attractive anymore. As she mused, however, her lonely flat seemed more desirable than the constant fussing over she would receive at home. And then there was work. _God, _work. How was she supposed to return to the Ministry? She couldn't be an Auror anymore, not with a cane… not when she was d_amaged. _

"Are you alright, dear?" Hippocrates Smethwyk was gazing down at her, concerned. Ravenna realized that she was breathing rather heavily, and that her hands had twisted the gifted pillow until it now simply read, 'Ge We on!' She dropped the pillow and nodded, the words _damaged goods _floating irritatingly through her mind's eye.

"Yeah. Just… tired."


	3. A Diminutive Digression

Wind swept across the thankless moor. It greeted the knee-high brush and few trees (if the leafless, twig-like structures could be called trees) unyieldingly, and found its only proper match in a shack set apart from a dirt path winding its way through the valley. If a Muggle were to approach the shack—well, they wouldn't see a shack, would they? They would see a decrepit ruin with several signs stating, at worst, that disembowelment would await any trespassers. But if a Wizard approached the house, and happened to know the shack's Secret-Keeper, they would be welcomed into the slightly dusty, yet livable cabin.

This was where Fenrir Greyback lived.

The werewolf, who currently was occupying a rather beat-up armchair by the glowing hearth, plowed his sharp teeth with a toothpick as he chuckled. "Oh, too right, Bellatrix. But you keep your _fond memories_…" he drawled, sarcasm dripping off of every syllable, "… but I'm fine looking toward the future." He glared pointedly into the corner, where a startlingly thin woman sat.

Bellatrix Lestrange was not as she once was. No longer were her eyes alight with that manic happiness, no longer were her full lips curved into a gleeful smirk. Even her hair had lost its luster—large swaths of gray permeated her once tar black locks. She shifted, her robes rustling against her unhealthy frame. "D-D-Don't—"

Fenrir howled with derisive laughter. "D-D-Don't what?" he squealed mockingly. "D-d-don't what, Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix shivered. "D-d-don't speak of him like th-that," she whispered tearfully.

Fenrir's laughter died as his eyes turned steely. He threw the toothpick into the greedy fire before rounding on his female visitor. "Oh? And why not, Bellatrix? He's d_ead_. Lord Voldemort is _dead _and _gone. _Bloody hell, woman, it's been nearly five years! Isn't it time you stopped your mourning?"

The woman stared at her hands, wringing them in distress as she muttered. The words, "… greatest wizard… can't understand… can't understand…" could be heard from behind her curtain of hair. If Bellatrix had been slightly unstable before, the death of her Lord had destroyed her. Everything she had believed in, everything she had worked for was gone, gone, gone. She had vanished into total seclusion after the Battle of Hogwarts, holed up somewhere abroad. Needless to say, if she had shown her head she would have been arrested on the spot, but this night had been the first that she had ever been coaxed out of the shadows. "… greatest wizard…"

Fenrir leaned forward, yellow eyes glinting in the murky light. "Can't understand? What can't you understand? That, in his final hours, Voldemort's obsession left all of us helpless? While he was fighting that Potter boy, we were alone. We were left _alone. _Outnumbered. And he didn't care, Bellatrix. He. Didn't. Care."

Bellatrix's face lifted, ghostly white face distorted in anguish. "… did care… yes, he did…"

"NO, HE DIDN'T!" bellowed Fenrir, rising from his chair and swooping down on Bellatrix. The woman cowered. "Who was it who thought to use a Disillusionment Charm on you, while you lay unconscious, prey to any Auror who would have found you? _Me._" Bellatrix shuddered. "Nott. Mulciber. Carrow. All smuggled from the castle. All thanks to me." Bellatrix was silent. This seemed to appease Fenrir, who lowered his voice as he continued. "Voldemort's times were good times, Bellatrix. He provided us with what we needed. With... with prey. But no longer must we ask for what we want, Bellatrix. No longer must we _ask_…"

Bellatrix looked upwards, the fire casting long shadows across her sunken face. "… Lord Voldemort was always good to you, Greyback…" she whispered.

Fenrir sneered. "He was good to me because I had no qualms about killing. But I had my doubts, Bellatrix. The man hated Mudbloods. We werewolves were only a step away. Not that it matters anymore…" he intoned darkly, stepping away from the woman. Bellatrix watched from her corner, facial emotions flitting from that tired, anguished look, to one of morbid curiosity. It seemed curiosity had won when she finally spoke.

"Why have you brought me here, Greyback? Where is Alecto? Mulciber? Ho--" Fenrir raised a hand, which silenced Bellatrix. Bellatrix, who had always been one to speak out of turn, Bellatrix, who had always reveled in rebellion, obeyed Fenrir's desire for silence. Because Bellatrix needed someone to take care of her. Lord Voldemort was gone. So her loyalties had begun to shift unconsciously. After all, Fenrir was right… he _had _saved her life. Whether or not she wanted to acknowledge it.

Finally, Fenrir spoke. "We'll wait for the others to get here."

"But, why—"

Bellatrix was silenced by Fenrir's glance. Lips pulled back into a wolfish grin, Fenrir leaned jauntily against the mantle. "I think Britain's been far too peaceful for far too long, Bella, don't you think?"

In the shadows, Bellatrix smiled for the first time in five years.


	4. Kingsley Shacklebolt's Got It Wrong

Ravenna stumbled into her small flat, swearing under her breath as her cane caught the bottom of the doorjamb. She shed what was weighing her down—cloak, bag, shoes—as she limped across the threshold, falling into a wooden chair set apart from the green dinette.

The day had been, to put it succinctly, a disaster.

First, Hippocrates Smethwyk had introduced her to what Ravenna would only refer to as _it_: the cane was wooden, uncomfortable, and simply horrid. With each step, the cane tapped the ground loudly, a constant metronome-reminder of what she would never be able to do again. Secondly, it had taken more than a short conversation to convince Ravenna's parents that she had no need to move in with them. Her mother had of course cried, as well as, in a shocking turn of events—her father. Her father had cried. It was all very confusing for Ravenna, who had to wonder if she was doing the wrong thing, wanting to spend time alone. But in the end, they had understood, and had parted ways at the Leaky Cauldron. And finally, the stares. No matter how hard Ravenna gazed at the ground as she pushed through the crowds of Diagon Alley, it was unbearable. Open mouths. Fingers pointing. Ravenna itched to turn around, to yell, but she had not.

A sharp rapping noise brought Ravenna's head upwards from where it had fallen on the dinette.

"I went to St. Mungo's to visit you today," said a cheery voice, "Dodgy man in a purple hat told me you'd been sent home! Fancy that!"

Framed in the doorway was a slightly pudgy young woman with a round face and a gloriously beautiful smile. Mildred Wyckshire stepped over the welcome mat, clutching a brown paper sack, looking, through the smile, tentative. Ravenna wanted to smile at her very best friend, wanted to rise and give her a hug, wanted to welcome her with open arms. But she hadn't the energy.

Ravenna had met Mildred their first year of Hogwarts. Ravenna, in a lovely turn of events, had tripped on her way to the sorting hat, and Mildred's was the hand that helped her up. The two had been fast friends ever since. Whereas Ravenna was a bit shy and studious, Mildred was outgoing, boisterous, with a penchant for attracting males who were entirely wrong for her. The two were polar opposites, and, even though nearly eleven years had passed since they had left Hogwarts, they were still inseparable.

Mildred's smile faltered a bit as she shuffled into the room, placing the paper sack on the dinette before Ravenna. "Brought you some of that potato soup," she murmured, tapping the package with her wand, causing the paper to melt away and leave a steaming bowl of broth in its place; Mildred worked in a small café at the far end of Diagon Alley that specialized in soup. While the restaurant was known for their crazy concoctions (Ravenna never had the nerve to try the hippogriff beak soup, which may or may not actually have hippogriff beak in it), she preferred to stick to the simple recipes. The soup was her favorite, and yet she had no appetite.

"Thanks, Milly," she replied, pursing her lips in what she hoped was a smile.

It didn't pass. "Talk to me, Ravenna."

Ravenna avoided Mildred's eyes as she shrugged. "What do you want to hear?" she mumbled stubbornly. Instantly, Ravenna regretted it, as Mildred raised one brow. As boisterous as Mildred was, she had a temper to boot, and Ravenna was taking advantage of their friendship. Meeting Mildred's eyes, Ravenna felt herself soften a bit. "I-I'm sorry…"

Mildred interrupted with a flippant wave of the hand. "Come off it. I just want the truth, is all. Daily Prophet was really dodgy. I mean, how do I know what to believe when they claim you go by 'Ravvie?'"

Ravenna grinned. Among things Rita Skeeter had gotten wrong, the nickname was perhaps the funniest. It felt good to share this moment of humor with Mildred, and Ravenna was wondering if she maybe had been wrong about this whole thing. It was possible that she could really do this thing, get past all of it—

"Seems they got the bit about your leg right, though," Mildred stated sadly, glancing downwards.

Ravenna's stomach gave an unhappy lurch. She'd have to get used to the leg before really feeling happy again. "Yeah. I need a cane and everything."

"Have to use it all the time, then?"

Ravenna nodded.

A wicked grin tugged at Mildred's lips. "Well, brilliant. You can beat off all those male callers. Remember Elliot, that duff Slytherin bloke…" The two fell into happy reminiscing, which was a perfect distraction for Ravenna. They were deep into a conversation regarding the time when a first year had tried to interrupt Professor McGonagall's class to deliver a rose to Mildred from some fifth year when a delivery owl flew through the open kitchen window and landed on the dinette. Mildred reached forward ("You've been in the hospital for nearly a month. Least I could do is bring you soup and pay for the Prophet."), and, after the paid owl had departed, disappeared behind the paper.

Ravenna leaned forward. Another envelope had arrived with the paper. Reaching forward, she ripped open the letter and was disheartened to see it was from the Ministry.

_FROM THE DESK OF GAWAIN ROBARDS_

Dear Ravenna,

Hope this letter finds you in good health. A friend at St. Mungo's has informed me that you are, in fact, in condition to return to work. Therefore, we would be pleased to have you back as soon as possible. Meaning, of course, tomorrow! I understand that you may or may not be prepared to return to an area of work, but I must insist—after all, the state of your inbox is rather frightening. Work can be a good distraction, after all. Try not to worry, though! We're all here for you.

Fondly,

Gawain Robards, Head of Auror Office, Ministry of Magic

P.S. Oh, and please report to me first thing. I'd like a quick word. Cheerio!

Ravenna lowered the letter as several emotions washed over her in a very quick succession. First, she was surprised that Robards had sent her an owl—Robards had never sent her an owl before. In fact, aside from a few curt words with the man, Ravenna never really had what could constituted a conversation with him. She had always been under the impression that Robards had better things to do than deal with an Auror trainee. Secondly, she was angry. Angry that she had to go back to work, where people would ask questions that she did not want to answer. And finally, she was nervous. Why did Robards want to talk to her?

The words _we're all here for you_, however, were the ones that stood out as she placed the letter back on the dinette. She was oddly touched, regardless of her hectic emotions. Ravenna had never been one to be all chummy with her co-workers. It was unexpected, but… nice.

"So, Fenrir Greyback, huh?"

Mildred's voice caught Ravenna's attention. Frowning at the question, Ravenna nodded.

"How'd you know it was him?"

Ravenna blinked. "Er… well, I saw his face, for one thing. Tends to be how you recognize people, and all…" she said, voice small despite her attempted sarcasm. Mildred's face was confusing to Ravenna, and she noticed that her friend had the Prophet shoved behind her back. "Is there something in the Prophet?"

Mildred's pause was answer enough.

"Give it here, Milly."

"It's nothing, really. Just a bit of rubbish, you know how it is…"

"Mildred."

Mildred blanched like a dog caught sneaking food off of the table, but handed the paper over.

"THEY ARE NOT BACK"

By Arthur Pockings, Ministry Correspondence

Early this afternoon, amid much rumor instigated by a recently published article and the attack on witch Ravenna Gardens, Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt spoke at an emergency conference.

"I can say with complete certainty that Fenrir Greyback is safely incarcerated at Azkaban Prison," he stated, speaking to a rather large, rather nervous crowd. "All Ex-Death Eaters and followers of He Who Can Now Be Named either perished in the Battle of Hogwarts, or are incarcerated. We have indisputable proof. They are not back."

This declaration brought forth many questions, namely: Who attacked Ravenna Gardens?

"We have no doubt that Ravenna was attacked by a werewolf. It is possible, however, that in her fear she mistook her attacker for the ex-Death Eater. Fright often distorts the truth."

Another reporter posed the question: What does Ravenna Gardens have to say about this?

"The Ministry has not yet contacted Miss Gardens, but can assure you that, once spoken to, she will realize her error."

CONTINUED ON PAGE NINE

Ravenna didn't turn the page. She didn't want to read the rest. Why would the Ministry say such things? Wide-eyed, she raised her head and saw Mildred watching her. It was Mildred who spoke first.

"I mean, you could have been real scared, and everything…"

"I was scared, Milly. But I'm not—I wasn't—" Ravenna choked on her words, forcing down what likely would have been a dry sob. Recollecting herself, she spoke once more after a minute had passed. "Mildred. You remember those posters? The wanted signs they posted everywhere?"

Mildred nodded.

"Everyone knows what Fenrir Greyback looks like," Ravenna said, her voice shaking with sudden, controlled rage, " I _know _it was him."

Mildred looked torn. "Maybe—I mean, it's been five years…"

"MILDRED!" shouted Ravenna. Her outburst stunned both her and Mildred, who fell into a shocked silence. Ravenna glanced at her hands. "I'm sorry, but this is rubbish. I mean, I'm not 'Ravvie,' I never said those bleeding things about seeing the sun again or whatever, and _it was Fenrir Greyback._ They've got it wrong. You yourself said it. The Prophet's dodgy." She choked back another sob. "They've got it wrong."

Mildred nodded, wide-eyed, still slightly stunned at her friend's outburst. Finally, after several moments, she nodded again. "Alright. Well, then let's prove those gormless Ministry gits what's what."

Ravenna was silent, but felt a sudden burst of affection for her dear friend. She nodded back, smiling softly.

"So what're you going to do?"

Good question, Ravenna thought. Glancing sideways, Gawain Robard's letter caught her attention. She faced Mildred once more. "I think I have an idea."

_If anyone else is wondering, and if you skipped over this chapter, Ravenna is, in fact, 29. Rita got something right! :)_

_And thanks for all the comments, everyone. It keeps me writing! _


	5. A Botched Resignation

The office was quiet when Ravenna arrived at the Ministry. It should have been, considering it was only six o'clock in the morning. All the small desks, each belonging to an Auror or Auror trainee, were empty, and the normal laughing crowds that often cropped up in the aisles were gone. Ravenna glanced across the darkened room, peering into the vaulted ceilings, taking a quiet moment to muse.

After Hogwarts, Ravenna hadn't gone straight to the Ministry. She had been frightened, to say the least, of failure, considering many of the students entering the Auror office were considerably more brave than she. It had been a strange few years, bouncing around from odd job to odd job, never really finding anything that suited her, until one day (when she found herself exceedingly unhappy, having dealt with a very rude customer at the very café Mildred now worked at)she had screwed her courage to the sticking place and taken the plunge. Ravenna was a few years older than most of the Aurors-in-training, but she didn't mind. She finally had her dream job.

And now she had to give it up. Ravenna had decided the sleepless night before that she didn't have a choice—she had to quit. It wasn't just about how she felt—which was, for the record, unstable, emotional, and frustrated—but it was about her coworkers. They shouldn't be forced to work with a woman who limped. Who might not be able to take care of herself. Who might be—_different. _Ravenna just couldn't force them. So she would quit before it became a problem. Taking a shuddering deep breath, she nodded and stepped across the floor towards the back of the room. Ravenna was doing the right thing. So she had come to inform Gawain Robards of her decision, and perhaps even have an opportunity to ask about the recent Ministry announcement. After all, if there was anyone who knew about the state of dark wizards, it would be Gawain Robards.

Robards was the only Auror who had an office to himself, and a light currently glowed from within through the frosted glass that lined its walls. The man always came in early; as he often said, "Being early is on time, being on time is late, and being late is unacceptable," so Ravenna had banked on him being here. She strode across the large room and rapped on the door. "Mr. Robards? It's—"

"Come in, come in!" came the response muffled by the door, which Ravenna cracked open tentatively (she had never been in Robards' office) before entering the office.

Ravenna's first impression was that she had walked into a giant photo album. Every free inch of wall that didn't contain bookshelves was plastered with what must have been Robards' family. A kind-faced, white-haired female smiled down at Ravenna and winked, as well as three identical brown-eyed boys, probably around the age of seventeen. It was a bit unnerving at first, having hundreds of pairs of eyes staring down at her, but after a moment, Ravenna felt a sudden swell of emotion. Robards had always been a boss to her, but a family man? It was all very sweet.

"Ah, admiring my pictures?" Ravenna glanced over at Robards, a small smile on her face. "My Genevieve—that's her, right there, and there—likes to know that I'm always thinking about her, even at work. Not that she has anything to worry about." The man beamed up at his family, and again, Ravenna suddenly wondered why she had always been intimidated by Robards, when he was obviously a sweet, old man. After a moment, Robards smiled and nodded at Ravenna, "Well, all right, sit down, sit down."

Ravenna sat in the chair opposite Robards' desk, letting her cane rest against her knees. "Sir, before you say anything, I'd like—"

Robards made a face reminiscent of one who had eaten a bogey flavored Every Flavor Bean. "Oh, no. No, no. Please, call me Gawain."

"Oh, right. Of course. Well—Gawain—"

"How are you doing, Ravenna? Feeling alright?"

The interruption surprised her. Ravenna was desperate to say her business as quickly as possible and leave, and she spluttered, "Er—well, I-I'm fine, Si- I mean, Gawain—"

The man leaned forward, peering at her from behind horn-rimmed glasses. "Really?"

"Um. Well. I-I suppose?"

"Right, well. Of course, we understand what—"

"Sir, I'd like to quit," Ravenna blurted out, eyes widening as she realized she had interrupted her boss. "Sorry, Si—I mean, Gawain. I mean, I can't move like I used to, and there are some side-effects that… that I can't even understand yet, so—" She stopped, however, when she realized that Gawain was laughing. He was _laughing. _Stung, she asked, irritated, "I'm sorry?"

Robards removed his glasses with a sufficiently scarred and calloused hand, his laughter subsiding to a little titter. "Oh, Ravenna. I'm sorry, but that is simply out of the question!"

"Wh-what?" she spluttered. "But I… I'm…"

Robards placed his hands together, letting them fall to the desk as he regarded Ravenna without the buffer of his glasses. His brown eyes were unsettling. "Ravenna, there is no doubt in my mind that you will be a changed person after your attack. I would be concerned if you weren't, considering it is wise to address all the emotional changes you are—and will be—experiencing. For the sake of your mental health." Ravenna listened silently, feeling like a child being berated. "But I refuse to let you—for the sake of a better term—be beaten. You are a superb Auror, if not a bit shy, with a future ahead of you. Imagine if every witch or wizard attacked by a dark wizard refused to go on with their lives. Nothing would ever happen!"

"B-but, Sir— "

"As I told you before, I prefer Gawain."

Ravenna felt a surge of anger, one of those foreign, fiery things. Attempting to remain respectful, she swallowed, "Gawain. With… with respect, I don't think you understand."

Robards frowned. "Ravenna. I have been an Auror for thirty-five years. I have seen things that not many wizards have. Now, I have never been attacked by a werewolf, but I'd like to think I do understand to some degree. Which brings me to why I've brought you here today."

"But—"

"No more interruptions, if you please. Tonight, I've been invited to a close friend's house for dinner, and I'd like you to attend with me. There are a few people I'd like you to meet. We'll leave here promptly at five. In the mean time, I believe you have an appointment with the papers in your in-box. That is all!"

The silence was deafening as Robards turned his attention back to the paperwork on his desk. Ravenna couldn't quit. She had no choice. And she had just been invited to dinner with Gawain Robards. Her mouth hung open as she slowly rose from her chair, cane cold beneath her fingers. Robards didn't—no, c_ouldn't_—understand what she was going through. How could he? Regardless of all this, he seemed oddly eager to help. It was, again, entirely confusing. She was exhausted as she moved to exit. However, remembering why she had come, Ravenna turned one more time. "Um, Gawain?"

He didn't look up. "Mmm?"

"I-It was Fenrir, Gawain. I-I don't know why the Minister says it isn't, or if it's just the Prohpet, but… it was. I know it was…"

Robards looked up, his face unreadable as a minute of silence stretched between them. Finally, he turned back to his papers. Defeated, Ravenna turned to leave.

"I believe you, Ravenna. But we shall discuss it more tonight."

As Ravenna returned to her desk, the offices still empty, the emotional wheels turning in her head had finally stopped and settled on relieved. Despite her frustration at Robards' refusal of her resignation, he was going to help her. She had something to look forward to. Prodding the chipped edges of her wooden desk with the her wand, Ravenna was still musing over who she might be meeting with Robards as her co-workers began to file in for the day's work.


	6. Of Geese and Greyback

Five o'clock came surprisingly fast. As an Auror trainee, Ravenna often found herself dealing with tedious paperwork, more so than being out in the field. She was okay with that, especially today. All of the monotonous reports—which mainly were intelligence blips, like when old Mrs. Fugehorn of Wallington Way thought her cat was Lord Voldemort reincarnated—had to be read over and signed before they could be discarded. Keeping her nose in the papers was also a great way to stay hidden. Ursula Pennington, around two, came dangerously close to her desk, but was whisked away rather quickly by a chatty passing group. Needless to say, Ravenna was a bit startled when a voice spoke behind her.

"Oh, lovely! You got plenty of work done, I see."

Ravenna turned to see Robards standing behind her, looking pleasantly bemused behind his glasses. She shrugged, smiling politely, and lowered the report she had been reading ("… and we can say with certainty that the blackberry bushes of Old Orchard Park are not attacking Muggles…").

"Good. Better not tarry, or we'll be late! We'll be Apparating, so if you could just position yourself next to me and grab my arm—there we go—" Ravenna stood, quickly clasping her navy cloak about her neck and nervously placing her hand on her boss's arm. A cloud of apprehension had begun to hang over the whole situation, and Ravenna was beginning to worry. What was about to happen? Who was she meeting? Was she getting her hopes up? But, then again, Robards _did _say he believed her. Before Ravenna could delve any deeper into her thoughts, she was tugged into suffocating darkness.

As quickly as they had left, Ravenna found herself standing next to Robards in a small but pleasant garden. The air was tangy, a familiar scent, and there was a repetitive sound of—ah, waves. They were near the ocean!

"After me, if you please," stated Robards, and began up the path, through the garden, towards a cottage on the edge of a cliff. Ravenna was torn away from surveying her surroundings (she could have sworn there was something that looked like a grave at the opposite end of the garden), and followed the male Auror up the path to the front door. Robards raised a fist to knock on the door, though he paused, glancing at Ravenna. "I suppose I should warn you..." he began, but was cut off by the door opening.

A woman of breathtaking beauty stood before them. It was almost painful to look at her, with her glowing skin and silvery hair. The woman smiled widely and swept forward, pecking Robards on both cheeks. "Gawain! 'Ow lovely eet eez to see you! Eet 'as been too long!" she exclaimed throatily, so very obviously French. She then turned her attention to Ravenna and gave her an achingly handsome smile. "And 'oo is this?—Oh, Bill, Gawain is here!" she said, turning her attention to a tall, red-headed male who had arrived in the doorway. It wasn't easy for Ravenna to tear her eyes away from the blonde woman, but in the red-head's case, she was willing to make an exception, mouth falling open.

He had scars. Scars like _hers. _They weren't normal looking. It was startling, so startling that her voice had completely disappeared. Luckily, the red-head spoke. "Gawain! How're you, old boy?"

Robards embraced the new male like a father, smiling. "Bill! So glad you could accommodate me."

"Don't be daft. After you got me out of that spot of trouble with the Egyptian goblin? You're always welcome!"

"You flatter," Robards stated, but it was obvious the kind words were greatly appreciated. After a moment, Ravenna started as he motioned towards her. "I hope you don't mind, I brought a guest. May I present—"

"—Ravenna Gardens," whispered Bill. Everyone has gone quiet as Bill extended a hand towards Ravenna. Taking note of the look on her face, he offered a weak smile, "I recognized you from the Prophet. Bill Weasley. And this is my wife, Fleur."

Ravenna mechanically took his hand. The name was familiar… Ravenna thought that he had been several years ahead of her at Hogwarts. As her hand closed around his, she jumped a bit, glancing downwards. The two had similar scars along their hands; his felt ropey and worn under her touch. "Hello," was all she could offer, voice very, very quiet.

When Robards spoke, he sounded faraway. "Bill, too, was attacked by Fenrir Greyback, Ravenna."

Bill dropped Ravenna's hand suddenly, a concerned look coming to his distorted features. "Wait, what? Prophet said it wasn't Fenrir. What do you mean?"

Robards smoothed the few wisps of white hair that clung to his scalp. "If you would be so kind to let us in, Bill, I would be happy to have this conversation." Bill froze for a moment, face unreadable, before nodding. The two crossed the threshold into the quaint house, where Fleur graciously excused herself to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Bill waved a hand, offering Ravenna and Robards a seat before placing himself in an armchair by the fire, where he fell into silent speculation. The two Aurors sat on a lavender-colored couch opposite their host, and, when no one spoke, Ravenna cleared her throat.

"Um, I-I'm not sure—"

"I should have known. I should have _known_!" burst Bill, his head raising from where it had been placed on his fist. "I mean, it's what he does, right? Ravaging people when he's in human form. But… what's this tripe in the Prophet, then? Did Kingsley really say all that?"

Ravenna remained silent, assuming the question was not for her.

Robards nodded gravely. "I'm afraid he did. I was at the conference."

"What's he up to? Kingsley's always been a right smart bloke. How could he—I mean, it was Greyback, wasn't it?"

At the silence, Ravenna realized the question was directed at her. She nodded fervently. "I mean, I've never met the man before, or anything, but I recognized him from those wanted posters all those years ago." Bill fell into thought again, running a finger along his scarred cheek distractedly, giving Ravenna time to think.

Her mind was awash with thoughts. Bill had been attacked, too. She had so many questions to ask him: Did he feel the same way she did? Could he control his emotions? And, finally, the question that had been worrying Ravenna, did the full moon effect him? The last cycle, Ravenna had been unconscious at St. Mungo's, but now that she was out, what would happen? Again, however, was the small glimmer of happiness that yet another person believed her.

"What about a spell, or—or a charm. Or Polyjuice potion. Could it have been a wizard parading as Greyback?" asked Bill.

Robards nodded gravely. "I, too, have considered this. First, even if it wasn't Greyback, it had to have been a werewolf, obviously, due to Ravenna's wounds. Secondly, what wizard hordes locks of notorious dark wizard's hair, as is required for the Polyjuice potion? Not many come to mind, and even if they did—well, it wouldn't be a happy thought, now would it? No, I firmly believe that Fenrir Greyback attacked Ravenna." Robards turned to Ravenna and gave her what must have been a comforting smile. Ravenna was touched that this man, who this morning she had almost feared, was going out of his way, simply because he believed her.

Bill spoke again. "Alright. Alright, say that it _is _Greyback—which, right now, sounds bloody right—there's still the matter of Kingsley. What's he playing at?"

"I have several theories, all as unlikely as the next. But I—"

"Bill, could you 'elp me with the goose? 'E is simply not basting right…" Fleur stood in the kitchen doorway, looking even more beautiful with a smudge of flour on her nose and an apron tied about her waist.

"Please, allow me Bill. If I remember correctly, you aren't exactly—pardon the pun—a wizard in the kitchen. Excuse me," and, as quickly as their conversation had been progressing, it ended, Robards disappearing into the kitchen with a simpering Fleur.

"How's it feel, then? Being the 'Girl That Lived?'" asked Bill as he smiled ruefully, leaning over the coffee table towards Ravenna.

"It's… Well, it's rubbish, actually," Ravenna admitted, surprised at her honesty but happy she was speaking with someone who she could, at last, really relate to. "Rita Skeeter… she's, well…"

"Not human? No worries. I've had my own run-ins with Rita, I understand. But I meant… y'know… how're you doing with all this?"

Ravenna's smile faded. She could do it. She could really say what she was feeling. And she wanted to, for the first time since she had left St. Mungo's. Even though Mildred was her best friend, she didn't _know. _"I'm… I'm angry. A lot. And I don't know why." She looked at Bill, who was nodding. "I feel like I can't control my emotions anymore. I feel… like I'm crawling out of my skin."

Bill smiled kindly. "You'll get used to it. The emotions will eventually feel second nature, and you'll feel like yourself again." He paused. "It will take a while. I won't lie. But… well, seems like you have Gawain looking after you. That's can't hurt," he said, giving her a wink.

Ravenna swallowed, but smiled. "I don't know why he's helping me, honestly."

"Because he knows you need it," he said simply. "He has a good eye for those sorts of things. Not to mention something fishy's going on. Bloke's got a good eye for those things, too."

Still smiling, Ravenna looked at her hands. Her parents, Mildred, and now Robards and Bill were all supporting her. Fervently. Ravenna thought she would have been either scorned for being something not quite human, or befriended by strangers who were merely morbidly curious. It was all unexpected. "Bill?"

He looked up.

"What's—what's the full moon like for us?"

Bill's face softened, but as he moved to answer, there was a sharp knock on the door. Bill looked confused. He obviously hadn't expected anyone. Robards, however, soon put their confusion to rest as his head popped out of the kitchen. "Hope you don't mind, Bill, I invited someone else."

"Oh! Well… of course not, Gawain."

"Lovely! Do you mind getting it? Fleur and I have our hands full at the moment—seems the boy at the grocer put a charm on the goose. Every time we try to baste, it gets up and runs around the kitchen! Hah!" Robards disappeared again, sounding as if he was having the time of his life. Bill, shaking his head, strode to the door in few strides.

"Ah, Bill! Great to see you. Sorry I'm late, Gawain's invitation was last minute and I had to find someone to watch Teddy—who's this?"

Bill stepped aside to reveal a somewhat tired, lined looking man, who looked young despite his graying hair. "This is Ravenna Gardens. Ravenna Gardens, I'd like to introduce Remus Lupin."


	7. Poison

Ravenna rose from her seat, approaching the newcomer. The name, just as Bill's, was familiar, but she couldn't place it. As Ravenna reached out a hand, she offered a small smile all the while wondering who Remus was. Obviously, Robards had brought Remus here for a reason. Was he from the Ministry? Perhaps he had some sort of knowledge about Fenrir Greyback.

"The Prophet's been having a field day with you, Miss Gardens." Remus shook her hand; he was smiling, though it did not reach his eyes. "I'm… I'm sorry for your sufferings," he added, with surprising tenderness. Ravenna was taken aback, once more, by this stranger's kindness.

Bill stepped forward. "We were just about to discuss our cycles, Remus. She's curious about how we're affected."

Remus smiled again, though it was a painfully sad one. The three moved, without speaking, back to the sitting area, Bill back on his chair, Remus and Ravenna on the couch. Bill spoke once more, "Maybe you want to speak on cycles, though," he said, motioning to Remus, who frowned deeply.

Ravenna started, turning to Remus. "Y-You were attacked by Fenrir, too?" she asked, equally surprised as she was disgusted. It seemed as if Robards had had a dual purpose inviting her to dinner. Yes, it seemed they would be discussing their doubts in Kingsley Shacklebolt's announcement, but it also seemed they were all kindred, Remus, Bill, and Ravenna.

The man next to her seemed hesitant to talk. "Yes. Many, many years ago."

When silence fell, Bill leaned forward. "Ravenna… Remus was attacked by Fenrir when Fenrir was transformed." Remus made a sort of involuntary twitch, hands clutching his knees. Ravenna noted the twitch, heard the comment, and as realization struck her, she found the angry flames that normally licked her heart were doused.

"I-I'm sorry," she said lamely, quietly, unable to form the words to eloquently explain her feelings.

Remus turned to Ravenna, smiling that same, sad smile as before. "Don't be. I've given up on pity a long time ago."

Suddenly, another realization struck her as she pondered his comment. Tonks! The Auror, Nymphadora Tonks! Ravenna had never known her, but had heard about her short marriage with Remus and her untimely passing at the Battle of Hogwarts. She was a hero at the Ministry. This new insight caused her even more anguish on behalf of Remus, but she chose not to mention it; it had been nearly five years since Tonks' death and Ravenna would not be the one to bring it up. But she wasn't about to leave the topic of their afflictions behind.

"I-I understand that… your experience is different during the full moon…" Ravenna stumbled through her words, hands twisting her cloak into a wrinkled mess as she looked at Remus, "… and I know that m-my situation can't even compare to yours—"

Remus frowned, seeming to choose his words very carefully. "We each have our own sufferings," he finally said, his gaze including Bill into the conversation. "I couldn't imagine trying to understand yours, as you shouldn't worry yourself with mine."

Bill made a throaty sound. "Good man, Remus."

Again, Ravenna was charmed by the two men. It was difficult for her to contain the outpouring of strange emotion welling within her. "What is it like? The full moon?" she finally asked, unable to say more.

Remus cleared his throat, turning his eyes to Ravenna. "As you and Bill are rare and new cases—I am sure you are aware that it is uncommon for a werewolf to attack a human in his non-transformed state—much of what anyone can say is guesswork and speculation. You may or may not have the same symptoms as Bill." Apprehensive, Ravenna nodded, and Remus continued. "When Bill was bitten, we experimented with a diluted form of the Wolfsbane potion."

"Do you still take it?" asked Ravenna of Bill, who was quietly watching the conversation.

He nodded. "Every month. It just makes those few nights… easier."

Ravenna didn't speak. To know that a potion could help her didn't ease any of her pains, as there were many questions involved: What if she didn't take it? Was it hard to make? Was it expensive? Her face obviously registered something like confusions, because Remus' voice floated into her awareness. "I have quite a stock of potion that you're welcome to, if you choose to take it. It's rather tricky to make. I can send some to Gawain."

"Send me what now, Remus? Good you could come, good you could come" Robards popped his head out of the kitchen, holding a magnificent goose trimmed in cranberries. Flanked by Fleur, using her wand to float over a bowl of potatoes and carrots, the two came into the room, Robards smiling all the while. "No worries, everyone, I believe the goose no longer has any desire to walk!"

Fleur let the dishes come to rest on the coffee table. "We will eat in 'ere, yes? Ze kitchen table eez not big enough… 'Ello, Remus…"

"Have Ravenna and Bill filled you in, Remus?" asked Robards, and soon the small group was served and deep in conversation. Bill, Ravenna, and Robards told Remus of their concern that something was wrong with Kingsley. Ravenna was pleased to learn that Remus agreed; he, too, knew Kingsley fairly well, and was confused as to why a seemingly smart man was refusing to see what they believed was obvious. They soon were discussing possibilities; blackmail, bribery, and the most feared, the Imperius Curse. Ravenna mainly listened to the conversation, happy to have support, but slightly puzzled.

"Why is it so strange that Fenrir Greyback is alive?" Ravenna asked, voicing her confusion during a lull in the conversation. She suddenly had four sets of eyes on her. "I mean… it seems fairly simple. If he's alive… he's just alive… right?"

Robards frowned. "Well, I should think it would be obvious!" Ravenna flushed, ashamed that whatever was obvious had escaped her. "True, Fenrir is just a man. But think of what his sudden appearance means! It could, at worst, herald in a new era of fear."

"Not to mention the possibility of other ex-Death Eaters," chimed in Bill from behind his fork.

"And the fact that the public suddenly and seemingly can't trust the Ministry. If the Ministry was wrong about the deaths and imprisonments of the Death Eaters, what else could they be wrong about?" added Remus.

Ravenna bit her bottom lip. She hadn't thought of all thought. It was just strange to suddenly find herself in the middle of what could possibly be… well, for lack of a better tem, a conspiracy. Ravenna had always lived a quiet life. This sort of thing wasn't meant for her.

The rest of dinner passed rather quickly. Soon, they were standing, and Ravenna did not want to leave. Fleur beamed at her, thanking her graciously for coming as the group moved towards the door. Ravenna was startled to see that it was dark already, and quite later then she had expected. At the door, Robards spoke.

"I think that some investigation is in order. I do hate to impose, but I believe it is important the four of us—" motioning to himself, Ravenna, Bill, and Remus, "—should meet again soon. If Fenrir Greyback truly is alive, you may all be in danger." Ravenna blanched at these words, but received a kindly smile from Robards. "Late tea tomorrow, at the Leaky Cauldron? Say, around four?" Remus and Bill acquiesced, as did Ravenna.

As Ravenna exited the cottage, Bill held out a hand, which she took. "You're always welcome, if you need it," he said. Ravenna could only smile in return, emotions still high.

Remus, too, turned to her as they crossed into the garden. "Remember that you have friends," he said quietly, the dark nearly consuming his words. "If it weren't for the loyalty of friends—well, I wouldn't be the same man I am today." Again, Ravenna smiled, but in the dark she imagined Remus was smiling, too. With a crack, he disapparated.

"Lovely dinner, wasn't it?" Robards had sidled up next to her. Without much thought, Ravenna flung her arms around the old man. Taken aback, Robards slowly returned the hug. It was a moment before Ravenna pulled away, shocked at her own informality.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Of course," mumbled Robards , an oddly concise reply for the normally verbose man. Ravenna was shocked to hear a waver in his voice, but before she could question it he had disappeared with a crack.

As the crushing darkness consumed Ravenna, and her flat materialized before her, she was left to muse yet again. So much had happened in so little time, and yet it was all due to Gawain Robards. Ravenna quickly changed and fell into bed, all of what she had learned and all of whom she had met playing havoc on her mind. Sleep, however, came to her quickly, and for the first time in quite a while she did not dream.

---

A sharp rapping brought Ravenna out of a deep sleep. It was very late. Sitting up, she ran a hand over her face as she realized that someone was knocking on her front door. Ravenna swung her feet to the cold floor, concerned, and retrieved her wand and cane from the bedside table.

Coming to the door, she hesitated: who could it be at such an hour? Lifting her wand a bit more, she unlatched the lock and the door swung inward.

"Remus?"

"Ravenna," stated a very harried, very concerned-looking Remus Lupin.

"Wh-why are you here? How did you know where I lived?"

"Harolds told me," he said quickly, mentioning the name of the Auror who was in charge of all of the trainees. "Ravenna, it's Gawain."

A cold stone settled in the pit of Ravenna's stomach. "What?"

"He's been poisoned."

Ravenna leaned against the door, her cane suddenly not enough to keep balance. "Wh—is—is he okay?" she asked. Remus hesitated, and his hesitation sent her insides turning. "Tell me he's okay," she demanded, tears welling.

"He's at St. Mungo's. He is alive, Ravenna, but not well."

"Give me a moment to change."

"I'll wait here."

_Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading! It means more then you could ever know. I may not update as frequently for a week, because I have family over, but I assure you I have some big things coming. This story came to me fully formed, so keep watching out for more to come! :)_


	8. Gawain's Secret

The sun was already beginning to banish the night sky into oblivion as Ravenna and Remus arrived at St. Mungo's. The two had spoken very little since Remus had arrived at Ravenna's apartment, but no words were needed to describe how heavy the situation had suddenly become. It didn't need to be discussed: Robards had been attacked. There was no way around it. And this could only solidify that something wasn't right in the wizarding world.

The moment Ravenna and Remus stepped onto the landing of the third floor, they could feel the apprehension in the air. An unknown healer guided the pair to a room, looking much too forlorn for Ravenna's liking. It turned out the healer wasn't needed to find the room, however, as they spotted Bill leaning against the wall, head down and face ashen. His eyes lifted as the footsteps reached his ears.

"How is he, Bill?" asked Remus quietly, as if the sound of his voice would void the healing powers in the hospital.

"He's—breathing. Barely. The healer thinks he's stable, but—they can't wake him up, Remus. They've never seen this kind of poison."

Remus didn't respond, merely looking towards the door, behind which lay the man Ravenna had grown very fond of in the past twenty-four hours. To think that this sudden anchor had been taken from her was enough to cause her distress, but to think that someone had done this to such a kind man caused her more than distress. Ravenna was beginning to feel that anger bubbling in her bile once more, and this time, she was afraid that it would get out.

"I need to see him," she said suddenly, her voice sounding oddly level for the tumult of emotion inside of her.

Bill frowned silently, and Remus turned to Ravenna. "Are you sure that's wi—"

"I need to see him."

Remus paused for a moment, before turning to Bill. "Will you see if Genevieve is still in there, please?" Bill's brows knitted together for a moment as if he was going to question the request, but seemingly decided against it and ducked into the room. Ravenna's stomach twisted angrily as Remus turned towards her. "Are you aware of Gawain's relationship with Fenrir Greyback?"

Ravenna frowned. "I—what? He told me he had never been attacked by a—"

He waved a hand. "No, no, that's not what I meant. Gawain never fought Fenrir. But—" The man paused, running a hand through his prematurely graying hair. "—I'm not sure if I feel comfortable telling you, if he didn't deem it—"

"Oh, come off it," Ravenna snapped, the anger within her bubbling to the surface, the harsh words foreign on her tongue. Remus' brows lifted briefly at the outburst.

"Alright," he murmured, after a moment had passed. "You are aware that Gawain has three sons, triplets?" Ravenna nodded, thinking back to the photos in Robards' office. "Yes, well, did you know that Gawain also had a daughter?" At this, Ravenna could only stare mutely. A daughter? "You would have been too young to remember, but during the first war, Fenrir made it his mission to attack as many wizards as possible. He viewed it as his mission to revenge himself on those who didn't understand the majesty that was being a werewolf." Remus said the last bit quite bitterly, causing Ravenna to blanch; the horrors that Remus must go through…

"Gawain, at the time, was a young Auror, but already gaining repute for his skill. He placed many would-be dark wizards in Azkaban, as well as werewolves who no doubt would have turned to Lord Voldemort for what they thought would be protection. This… displeased Fenrir. And as you may or may not know, Fenrir is one for vengeance."

Ravenna had an inkling where Remus' story was going, and she feared she could not brace herself.

"Fenrir came to Gawain's house during the day, when he knew the Auror would be at work. He was silent. While Genevieve was in another room, Fenrir took the baby girl from her crib, and…" Remus looked at the wall, unable to continue. Ravenna was glad he didn't. "By the time Genevieve came to wake the girl from her nap, Fenrir had fled. It was many years before Gawain stopped blaming himself. And then they had the triplets, and he seemed to finally be content."

Ravenna couldn't hold back tears any longer. She was so tired, so angry, so frustrated at being unstable, and now, thinking of Robards' anguish—it poured out, and tears fell. She leaned against the wall for support, while Remus politely looked away, as if unable to deal with any more emotion himself. Once or twice, his hand twitched as if he was to embrace the female Auror, but he did not. It was a few minutes before Ravenna could speak. "But—why didn't he tell me?"

"It's simple. I think you remind him of his daughter."

Ravenna was stunned into silence, and did not notice when Bill appeared at her side. He seemed to know that something heavy had passed, and was not quick about speaking. "Er, Ravenna?" She turned. "You can go in. Mrs. Robards is in there, but she said it was okay."

Ravenna looked at Remus, but he had turned away, his back to her, and was now leaning against the far wall. He appeared to be breathing heavily, due to the rise and fall of his cloaked shoulders—Ravenna wondered if retelling Robards' story reminded him of Tonks. It was all too much. She faced Bill briefly, nodding, and entered the room.

The same woman from Robards' pictures stood over the single bed, facing Ravenna. She was everything the pictures showed—kind face, striking white hair—but the sparkle in the eyes was gone. And there was Robards. It was shocking to see him so drawn, so pale. Even at his age, Robards was spritely, almost strangely active. To see him look so old was almost unbearable. He looked dead. Ravenna must have made a noise, because Mrs. Robards was suddenly looking at her. The two regarded each other silently.

"You must be Ravenna," she said, hoarse from what must have been tears, though it could not mask the melodious undertones. She had a beautiful voice.

Ravenna nodded.

"He spoke about you after we heard of the attack. He wanted to make sure you were—you were alright—"

"I—I know." _Come on, Ravenna, _she thought_. Say something! _"He was—unflinchingly kind to me, Mrs. Robards. I don't know what I did to deserve it." Although, Ravenna realized, she now knew why she had garnered so much attention from Robards.

Mrs. Robards did not speak. Silent tears were now working their way down her creased face. "You—may not realize it—" she stated haltingly, "—and I know you may not understand it—but—you gave my husband hope—" Her hand had worked its way into Robards' unmoving one. "—Thank you."

Ravenna was at a loss. "I'm going to find out who did this, Mrs. Robards," she said finally, vehemently. And when she did find the person, Ravenna wasn't planning on being nice. This was too much. With the image of Mrs. Robards clutching her husband's hand, Ravenna left the room. Anger was driving her now, drawing her like a magnet to what she now saw as her mission. Not only did she have to find out why Fenrir was back, and prove that he was, but she had to find Robards' attacker, and Ravenna had a feeling they were one and the same.

Ravenna found Bill and Remus in conversation. They turned to Ravenna as she neared, Remus speaking. "Ravenna, I think you will agree that you must not return to your flat in Diagon Alley. It is not safe."

"Where will I go?" she asked hollowly, no longer able to be surprised by any of the day's events.

Remus looked to Bill, who nodded. "I know of a place, a place I think will be quite safe. I'm waiting for an owl to confirm. Bill is going to return home quickly to explain the situation to his wife, while you and I apparate back to your apartment to pack, and then we'll all head to—"

"Wait, you're both coming with me?"

Bill and Remus regarded her strangely. Bill spoke first. "Well, of course. We're in this together, aren't we?"

The awkward silence was broken by the flutter of wings, as a tawny owl glided through an open window, landing on a chair near Remus. He quickly retrieved the letter that it was carrying, pried it open, and read it aloud.

Dear Remus,

Of course you can stay at Number 12. It's sort of just sitting there, considering Ginny and I prefer living in a place where the portraits don't carry on about half-bloods and all that. We're all well, thanks. I'd appreciate a letter back explaining what's going on, though… you spelled a couple words wrong in your letter, and if I know you I know that means something's wrong. Teddy's a bit worried, too—as much as he loves visiting his Aunt and Uncle Potter, he misses you.

Love, Harry

P.S. Kreacher may or may not pop up now and then. I've instructed him to accept orders from you.

Ravenna was the first to speak. "Harry Po—is that _Harry Potter_? And where's Number 12? Who's Teddy?"

No one answered her. Bill gave a quick wave and vanished with a crack as Remus shoved the paper in his pocket, turning to Ravenna. "Number twelve is the old headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. It still has a very strong Fidelius Charm on it, and we should be safe there." Ravenna merely stared. "I know you are in shock, but we have to hurry. Please," he added hastily, a quick smile playing on his features. It didn't stick.

Ravenna and Remus apparated back to her apartment, where things seemed normal. She packed numbly, realizing halfway through that she had grabbed eight pairs of socks, a night-shirt, a single hat, and no robes. She quickly remedied the problem and found Remus waiting in the dinette. "Ready?" he asked.

Ravenna shrugged. "No," she answered honestly. "But let's go." Remus offered his arm, which Ravenna grabbed, and they disapparated. Ravenna wondered where they would end up, and what they would do when they got there.

But she was glad she had help.

_OOOO NO. WILL GAWAIN LIVE? WILL HE BE BACK TO HELP THE NEW AGE TRIO? ONLY TIME WILL TELL. :P Thanks for the reads, and the reviews. 3_


	9. Priori Incantato

A dank smell barraged Ravenna as she apparated into the entry hall of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Although the rugs and walls and other surfaces seemed clean and without dust, Ravenna marveled at how old everything was as she ventured further into the heart of the house after Remus. Mirrors were cracked, causing her distorted image to leer from the walls; cabinet doors hung open; holes in the rug told of long-lived moth visitors. Everything seemed to once have been regal and luxurious, but it had all gone sort of seedy. Ravenna gazed upwards, brow wrinkling at the strange sight of curtains in the middle of a wall that most certainly did not go to the outside. She raised her hand to the tassel, but was cut short by Remus' voice.

"I wouldn't do that," he said with a small smile. He paused in his gait to stand next to Ravenna, glancing up at the wall. "This is the Black ancestral home, passed down from generation to generation. There is a rather nasty portrait hanging behind those curtains-- best leave it be."

"Black?" asked Ravenna, turning to Remus. "But aren't the Blacks dark witches and wizards?

Remus' smile turned sad. "Not all of them," he said quietly, and if he was going to continue he did not, due to a loud crack resounding from the back of the house. Soon, a voice called.

"Remus?" Bill's head popped out of a room down the hall. In his arms was a small traveling bag. "Oh, good. House seems in order?" Remus nodded, and, motioning to Ravenna, the two moved down the hall and into the room where Bill had apparated. They were standing in a very clean kitchen. Already, there was a large fire burning in the hearth, and the effect was very homey. The comfort was only skin deep, however.

"Fleur's off to visit her sister in France," Bill said, turning from where he had settled near the fire. "She wasn't too happy about it, though. I'll be paying for it later..."

A startling thought suddenly dawned on Ravenna as she turned from Bill, to Remus, and Bill back again. "Wait-- what about my parents? I--I haven't spoken to them--" she mumbled, horror-struck. "I have to send them an owl. Contact them. They'll wonder where I am. They might not be safe! I--"

"It's alright, Ravenna," said Remus.

"No, of course it's not! Bill's wife is alright, but--"

"Ravenna! When I went to speak to Harolds, I made sure an Auror was to be posted at your parents' house. They are in good hands."

Ravenna fell silent, melting into a chair at the long wooden table. The lack of sleep was catching up to her, intensifying each emotion as it came. Her parents, her loving parents, now had to be protected. Ravenna felt terribly guilty. They had to be terrified, for themselves, and for her. Her forehead fell forward into her hands and she simply breathed, steadying. If things were going to be done, she had to do it with a level head.

The scraping of chairs told her that Bill and Remus had joined her at the table, Bill next to her and Remus at the head of the table. They did not speak, however, and Ravenna suddenly found herself in charge of conversation.

"I-- am I wrong in thinking that Fenrir attacked Gawain?" she finally asked, head lifting from her hands to regard her companions.

"If it wasn't Fenrir, it was likely someone who's on his side," said Remus.

"Which isn't any better," mumbled Bill.

Remus nodded, musing, "Perhaps he had discovered something else, some proof of Fenrir's existence, or at least proof that Kingsley's been tampered with..."

Ravenna let her hand fall to the table with an aggravated slap. "What I can't understand is how anyone _could _find out that Gawain was set on figuring things out. He only first told me he believed me yesterday morning, and then we were at Bill's, and then-- well, he must have gone home afterwards, right?"

Bill was silent, and Remus sighed, shaking his head as he spoke. "I don't know, Ravenna."

Ravenna let out a sudden growl of anger, pushing back her chair as she stood. It scooted across the stone floor, scraping loudly, and she paced around it to stand near the fire. "Well, I'm tired of not knowing! I'm tired of feeling like people don't believe me, I'm tired of being scared, and I'm tired of feeling like a-- like a _freak!_" The last word echoed painfully around the kitchen. When silence fell, Ravenna glanced at the table; Bill had his jaw set determinedly, staring at the wall, and Remus regarded her coolly. Ravenna bit her lower lip, ashamed that her anger had gotten the best of her. "I--I'm sorry... I-- I didn't mean it, not like that..."

"It's quite alright, Ravenna," stated Remus evenly. "Although if you look around this kitchen, I think you'll find that everyone in it is-- by your words-- a freak."

"No, I--"

"So, if anything, you should feel right at home. But--" he paused, waving a hand as Ravenna moved to interject, "-- it does seem that we have a small problem... aside from the obvious, of course. We are all in need of the Wolfsbane Potion, as the full moon grows nearer. To take the edge off. Tomorrow, I will risk returning home to retrieve some."

Ravenna swallowed, studying her hands. "I'm sorry, Remus. Bill. I just-- I'll try to-- y'know, hold in everything--"

Bill looked to Ravenna. "I understand. It's okay," he said simply, though his jaw remained set.

Remus nodded, as if the situation had been settled. "No harm done. Well, I believe now we all need sleep. If we're to figure out our next move, we--" A large crack in the hallway interrupted Remus' words, startling the three to standing position. They regarded each other, confused.

"Did you invite someone else?" whispered Bill. Remus and Ravenna shook their heads, and the three drew their wands. Before the three could move to the door, however, a flash momentarily blinded them.

"_EXPELLIARMUS_!"

Ravenna felt her wand fly from her grasp, clattering to the ground a dozen or so feet away from her. Whipping around, she saw that both Bill and Remus were wandless, too. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped; the two men's eyes were widening in horror as they regarded someone behind her. Turning back around, Ravenna's heart leapt into her throat, fear gripping her.

"Isn't this—_precious,_" murmured Fenrir Greyback, wand outstretched in his dirty hand. "It's like a family reunion." He smiled widely as his languid form slunk inwards, obviously enjoying the shocked faces he saw. The yellow eyes fell on Remus for a moment. "How's the son, Remus? Teddy like his father, or is he just a half-breed git?"

Ravenna felt anger radiate in waves from Remus, though he did not speak; she was amazed by his self-control. "How did you get in, Fenrir?" he asked instead.

Fenrir laughed. "Didn't the Potter boy tell you? I've known where this place has been for _ages. _His pretty little mudblood friend brought me here by accident so many years ago. So, you could imagine my interest when a very old spell I cast alerted me to visitors. It's—" he paused, eyes falling on Ravenna, "—my lucky day. How are you, my dear?"

Ravenna saw red. Never had she known such fear and such anger at the same time. It was as if the world had melted away, and all she saw was Fenrir. The man who had shattered her world. Who had likely hurt Gawain. It was a desperate sort of anger, something she had to hold on to, unless she slip into a terrified shock. She must have tried to lunge at Fenrir, because soon she felt both Remus' and Bill's hand on her arms, pulling her back. "No!" hissed Remus quietly, eyes still on Fenrir who was now howling with laughter.

"Oooo, she's an attitude! Put a leash on that one, boys, lest she get away from you. Lemme know when they bore you, sweetie. I'll be around," Fenrir murmured.

"Shut up, you disgusting man!" shouted Ravenna, her eyes swimming with tears. Fenrir only laughed harder.

"What did you do to Kingsley, Fenrir?" asked Bill, through gritted teeth. He, too, was containing his rage, though he was much less composed than Remus. He was shaking uncontrollably, his face contorted in fury.

"Oh, figured that out, now, did you?" Fenrir stepped closer to Bill, smiling like a child. "Yes, well, I thought it was time to have a Minister on our side, innit?"

"Imperius Curse," whispered Remus.

Fenrir faced Remus. "Of course."

"But… how?"

Fenrir leaned very close to Remus, so close that Ravenna could smell his foul breath. She spasmed, so very unstable. When Fenrir was only but three inches from Remus, he smiled. "I… had… help." And he smiled broader.

_Help. _He had help. The thought frightened Ravenna to her very core, and it seemed that Remus and Bill felt the same; she felt them stiffen almost simultaneously. Fenrir noticed, and it pleased him. "Yes, that's right. Things are changing, my friends. Pity you won't be around to see it. Can't risk it, you see. You've already heard too much." He raised his wand. "Any last words?"

Bill spat at Fenrir's feet, Remus remained silent, and Ravenna murmured lowly, "Bite me."

"_AVADA—"_

CRACK.

"You will not hurt Master Harry's friends!"

The house elf who had suddenly appeared between Fenrir and the three snapped his fingers, sending Fenrir flying. He hit the far wall with a sickening thud and crumpled to the floor, while Remus sprung forward, the first to come to his senses. Before he could reach Fenrir, however, the ex-Death Eater lifted his head from the floor, gazed blearily outwards, and disapparated. Remus whipped around, regarding the house elf. "Er—thank you, Kreacher."

The house elf, who was very, very old, bowed his domed head. "Master Harry told Kreacher that his friend may need his assistance, so Kreacher came as soon as he was able. Master Harry was confused as to why his friend needed Number Twelve, yes, he was. Kreacher will not allow bloodshed in his house, no he won't." He turned his filmy gaze to Bill, who he seemed to recognize as well, and then finally rested on Ravenna. After a moment, he lifted his bony finger, pointing to the girl. "Master Harry's friend's friend does not look well, Sir…" Kreacher said to Remus.

And it was true. Ravenna's face had turned sheet-white. She was not crying, but was simply shuddering, breath shallow and uneven. Remus approached her slowly, but Ravenna recoiled, turning her back to the two. Fenrir had been right in front of her. He had been _right there. _To have seen his face again, to hear his voice, to s_mell _him... The anger was fading, leaving only fear. Fear of Fenrir, fear of what she was, fear of what she had to do. Suddenly, a hand appeared at her side, offering her wand. Ravenna grabbed it without thinking, and the simple act of arming herself once more seemed to lift some of the cloudy panic that had covered her. She turned, to see Remus and Bill standing there. Bill was pale, too, and Remus looked as if he wanted to hit something. Their reaction to seeing Fenrir was oddly comforting to her. Again, she wasn't alone. "Thank you… for stopping me…"

Bill nodded grimly. "I was a step away, myself," he mumbled, stowing his retrieved wand back in his pocket.

Remus, meanwhile, engaged the elf once more. "Kreacher, we cannot stay here. Please let Harry know what happened—he'd like to know—and that I'll be in touch soon," he said, before adding, "Thank you, again. You saved our lives." And Remus smiled, one of those rare things that lit up the room for a short moment. The minute Kreacher disappeared with a crack, however, it was gone, and he turned to Bill and Ravenna. "Bill, does your house still have the Fideli—"

"Yes."

"Can we--?"

"Of course."

Remus nodded. "Alright, to Bill's. Ravenna—Ravenna?"

But Ravenna wasn't paying attention. She had spotted something in the corner of the kitchen, where Kreacher had flung Fenrir. Something that hadn't been there before. Kneeling, Ravenna stretched out a hand, and her fingers curled around… "Fenrir Greyback's wand," she murmured in disbelief, growing excited. She turned, showing it to Bill and Remus. "He must have dropped it!" Remus, however, looked more confused than anything else. "What?"

"That's impossible."

"What do you mean?"

Remus was now staring at the wand in Ravenna's hand. "I destroyed Fenrir's wand during the Battle of Hogwarts…"

Ravenna shrugged. "So? Maybe he got another one. The point is, he's wandless! Maybe, this means we have—" In two strides, Remus cut Ravenna off by grabbing the wand from her hands, staring at it, face still contorted in confusion. "What--?"

Bill was now at Ravenna's side. He, too, seemed lost to Remus' sudden fixation on the wand. "Remus?"

Remus, who had been still as a statue, suddenly lifted the wand to shoulder height. "_Prior Incantato!_" he murmured.

The three sat back and watched as the wand began to regurgitate ghostly figures of past spells. First came Kingsley Shaklebolt ("It _was_ the Imperius Curse! Greyback wasn't lying!" whispered Bill), followed by several strange shapes that Ravenna had to guess were a series of charms and jinxes. After a minute, however, another spectral form began to take shape. The clouds began to settle, leaving a pretty woman, with a heart-shaped face and dark, twinkling eyes. Ravenna did not recognize her.

Suddenly, Bill lunged at Remus, hands closing around the wand that was still spurting ghostly images.

"Let go!" he shouted, struggling to tear the wand from Remus.

"No! No, don't make me… let me keep her… Please!"

"No, Remus! Stop! NOW!" With much force, Bill managed to force the wand from Remus' hands. It fell to the floor, the foggy figures disappearing as quickly as they had come.

Remus turned to Bill, and Ravenna was startled to see his eyes filled with tears. "This is Bellatrix Lestrange's wand," he said quietly, and disapparated.

Ravenna stared at the place where Remus had been standing, shocked at the sudden exit. Slowly shaking his head, Bill pushed past Ravenna to retrieve his case, as well as Ravenna's bag, at the table. Swallowing, she motioned to what she had thought was Fenrir Greyback's wand on the floor, which Bill was now pocketing. "What—what was that?"

Bill stood, straightening with a tired sigh. "Bellatrix Lestrange—she killed Nymphadora Tonks. I reckon Remus recognized the wand, and wanted to—to see her…" Ravenna frowned. It must have been… horrible… but Bellatrix Lestrange? Hadn't she been killed? She voiced her question to Bill, who shrugged. "He could have taken her wand. Or… well—"

"—we have another problem," finished Ravenna numbly.

"We should go. You can apparate yourself?"

Ravenna nodded. "But what about Remus?"

"He'll show up soon. He always does."

Ravenna and Bill were soon back in his cottage. Remus was not there. In silence, Bill made up the couch for Ravenna before retreating upstairs, leaving her in the lonely darkness. It had been so long since she had last slept, but even as Ravenna lay under the blankets, she could not sleep. Faces floated through her mind like some movie that would not end: Gawain, close to death; Fenrir, who had been momentarily defeated but was scheming something horrible; Bill, who Ravenna was afraid she had offended with her outburst earlier in the evening; Remus, who could be anywhere, hurt and alone. It struck her that even though she felt a connection with Bill and Remus, she did not know them very well. As Ravenna fell asleep, the slow but deadly poison of doubt had begun to seep into her blood, causing her to wonder if she would have to solve the case of Gawain's attacker, and figure out what Fenrir was planning, and stop it, alone. But as dreams took her, Bill and Remus' face stood out particularly-- smiling, helpful-- and she slept soundly.

_I realize that this chapter was a bit all over the place. I apologize for the poor writing, and the fact that a lot happened in a very short amount of time. Please let me know what you think, and what I can do to fix it! Thanks for reading, I love you all. 3 _


	10. The Missing Wolfsbane Potions

Ravenna must have slept through the entire morning and early afternoon of the following day, considering when her eyes opened the sun was beginning its' trip to the far horizon. At first, she lay there for a moment, the events of the past few days running through her mind. Her body was rested, but her mind was still too full of questions to fully turn off. Ravenna was extremely tempted to close her eyes again and burrow back into Bill's couch, when she realized what had woke her up. Lifting her head, she gazed over at the chair by the hearth. Remus Lupin sat there, chin perched on his fist, staring into the empty fireplace. Ravenna simply watched him for a moment, studying his scarred face, his weary eyes, and was swept with sadness once more—as it often was. Remus was a very wise man, and kind, too, but Ravenna felt he had been dealt one too many bad hands in life. She must have must have made some sort of noise, as Remus turned his face towards her, sitting up. His face was very tired.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

Ravenna shook her head, smiling slowly, as she swung her legs around to place her feet on the floor. "It's okay. I think I overslept, anyways…" she mumbled, motioning to the orange-splashed sky.

Remus glanced out the window. "You needed rest," he said after a moment.

"You could do for some rest, too, it looks like," Ravenna replied slowly, careful not to tread to heavily on Remus' fragile ground. She was loath to create another emotional debacle.

"Don't worry about me," was his curt reply, though it did nothing to settle Ravenna. She was beginning to feel that Remus seemed to believe he was not worth the worry. Long ago, her parents had taught her that-- in the middle of a particularly lonely few years during her trips through odd jobs—everyone had worth. Remus didn't seem to fully grasp this concept, but Ravenna couldn't say anything. After all, she had just met the man. She could be completely wrong. If anything, it was more of an inkling than anything else. "And—" said Remus, speaking once more, "—I apologize for leaving you and Bill last night. I was selfish, leaving you two in what could have been a very dangerous situation. I'm—"

"Don't apologize!" interrupted Ravenna, slightly horrified. "Remus, don't be ridiculous!"

Remus' brows rose. "Ridiculous? I most certainly was. I-I recognized the wand. I knew full well what I was doing, and I couldn't stop myself, and for that, again, I apologi—"

"Stop!" she stated, a bit louder then she had meant. Frowning, Ravenna lowered her voice once more, still unused to her sudden outbursts. "Maybe it's true; leaving us might not have been a good idea—" (At this, Remus seemed to hang his head like a child, though he feigned studying his hands), "—but can you really think that, in your situation, Bill or I wouldn't have done the same thing?" When Remus did not reply, Ravenna lowered her head, fussing over the blanket that had covered her during sleep, folding it but not really folding it. "Don't worry about it. After all, we're all fine. If anything, we were wondering what had happened to _you._"

Remus sighed, still looking at his hands. "I disapparated instinctually. I'm not really sure where I ended up—some forest."

"There's nothing wrong with clearing your head."

"That's the problem—" murmured Remus wearily, raising his head, "—there _is _something wrong."

Ravenna looked up from the blanket; Remus' tone was unsettling. "What do you mean?"

Sighing, the werewolf spoke haltingly. "I didn't stay in the forest long; it only took but a few minutes to realize I had made a mistake leaving you two. It occurred to me, however, that before I returned to the cottage that it might be wise for me to stop home and retrieve Wolfsbane potions. Ravenna, my house had been ransacked. Chairs knocked over. Papers everywhere. Cupboards ripped open."

Ravenna's brows furrowed, the blanket she had been folding forgotten. "You think it's Greyback?"

He chuckled weakly. "At this point, I don't know what to think. But, yes, that would be my best guess."

"Was anything missing?"

Remus regarded her wryly. "That was my first thought, too. Funnily enough, all my valuables were still there… even a small satchel of galleons I keep in the house. All, untouched." Ravenna was silent, for it seemed Remus was not done with his story. And he wasn't. "I quickly repaired much of the damage, and went to retrieve the potion. But—it was gone. All of it, gone. The entire stock of potion, any remaining ingredients, even a cheap mortar and pestle that had been given as a present many years ago—gone. Ravenna, I had a supply that could have lasted several years. Someone took it."

"Took what?" Bill had appeared at the bottom of the staircase, looking bleary and bed-headed. But as he sat next to Ravenna and Remus filled him in, Bill seemed to quickly wake up. He, too, had no qualms in believing that Greyback was behind the break-in and the burglary of the Wolfsbane potions. "Is he just trying to make our lives more difficult? I mean, it seems right petty to steal a potion that can be remade."

Remus shook his head. "I've known Greyback to be trivial, but commonplace thievery? It seems strange. Regardless of whether or not it was him, we are now faced with remaking the potion."

Ravenna had forgotten that they were all in need of the Wolfsbane potion while trying to think of possible reasons why Greyback would break into Remus' house. "Well, we could always go to Diagon Alley and buy the ingredients. Even if Fenrir _does_ want us dead, we should be safe during daylight."

"I agree," said Remus. "I've never actually made the potion, however. I've only ever had witches or wizards skilled in potions make it for me, considering it takes great diligence. But I suppose I'll have to try… Bill, do you have any potion in stock? It might be wise for you and Ravenna to start taking some. The full moon is only a week and a half away, and—"

Bill was frowning. "Remus, I don't have any. I had been planning on sending you an owl last week.

"Well, it seems as if we have another problem that needs solving. No worries, I believe this is one we can actually solve in a timely manner. We'll go first thing in the morning, then."

Silence fell for a moment. Everyone seemed to be brooding to themselves, each trying to wordlessly solve the mysteries that life had bestowed upon them. Only the sound of the distant waves permeated the thick air, and it was several minutes before Ravenna spoke. "Do we think that Bellatrix Lestrange is alive?"

Remus's eyes were cloudy. "Even if she's not, we still have much to figure out. And if she is? Well, we simply have to be quick about our deductions.

"Greyback said he had help," said Bill. "He could mean Bellatrix."

Remus stood suddenly, so quickly that the chair he was sitting on teetered precariously before settling again on four legs. "I really think I should rest. Bill, may I take the spare bedroom?"

Bill nodded. "It's a bit messy, though. Fleur's been using it for storage. I could—"

"I can manage."

Remus swept up the stairs, leaving Ravenna and Bill alone. Instantly, the air changed to that of polite awkwardness, a feeling that Ravenna had not ever felt with Bill before. Frowning, she turned towards him, a shamed flush creeping into her cheeks. "Bill?"

"Mmm?"

"I wanted to—um, apologize if I offended you with my statement last night. About—about us being—well, y'know—"

Bill turned, and Ravenna had a full view of his face. It was a hard face to read through all its' disfigurements, but Ravenna was surprised to see he had a small smile, a sad smile reminiscent of Remus'. "It's alright. _Really,_" he added at Ravenna's disbelieving face. "You just—remind me of me, when I was first attacked. I was… angry. Confused. Frustrated. Everything you feel, I felt. I, too, thought I was something repulsive."

It was Ravenna's turn to hang her head. Bill's explanation wasn't making her feel any better, if that had been his aim.

"You'll learn that it's just a quirk you have to live with. It's just that—you brought back a lot of memories last night, memories I had long buried. It's not you I'm angry at." Ravenna looked up, and found that Bill's small smile had turned into a kind one, one she had seen when she had first met him. Much relieved, Ravenna returned the smile, so very glad that she had been mistaken.

Bill stood up, clapping his hands. "Alright, now that that's settled, I think some food is in order. You like leftover goose?"

-------

The next morning, Ravenna, Remus, and Bill apparated into Diagon Alley. No matter how convinced both men were that they were safe to go out during the day, Ravenna could not shake the feeling of being followed. Everyone was Fenrir Greyback, or Bellatrix Lestrange. Everyone could be against them. It was a very creepy feeling, and as the three moved into Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, Ravenna sidled a bit closer to her companions.

Remus approached the desk, where a rather young, rather pimply young man stood. His unfortunate features were made up for by his eager smile and affable manner as he spoke, "Welcome to Slug and Jiggers! How may I help you today?"

Remus approached the counter. "Yes, hello. We'd like to purchase a few items… I have a list. Here we are," he murmured, wasting no time in small talk as he placed a small piece of parchment on the counter. The boy took the slip of paper and moved to turn, but paused, scratching his head as he looked back to Remus. "That's funny, sir. Y'see, we had another customer in here just yesterday, bought out all of our supplies of everythin' you be wantin'!"

Ravenna, who had never seen Remus speechless, watched him stand in a stunned silence.

"Are you sure? Maybe you should take another look…" said Bill.

"I'm certain, sir. Everythin's gone."

Remus, who had seemed to have gained his voice once more, asked, "What did the customer look like? Who bought all of those items?"

The boy squirmed beneath the question. "Er, well—we at Slug and Jigger's treat our customer's privacy very carefully. I don' think me boss would appreciate me tellin'—"

Ravenna was suddenly spurred into action; she wasn't thinking, just doing. After all, Remus' question was a valid one, and needed to be answered. Pushing her way in front of Remus, she threw what she hoped was a winning smile at the boy. It seemed to have landed, due to the sudden redness in the youth's ears. "We know it's asking a lot, but—you see, we're all a part of a little potions club with some close friends. We _told _the other members we would be purchasing everything we needed for our next meeting, but it's possible they heard wrong. We would just like to know if one of our club-mates came in, is all." Ravenna paused to take a breath; she had spoken very quickly. "We know it's an awfully big favor to ask, but…" she smiled once more, the youth blushing, Remus stunned once more into silence, and Bill looking as if he was stifling laughter with a dramatic but well-timed cough.

"I-I-I suppose I-I could tell you…" spluttered the boy. "I mean, she was wearing a hat, so I couldn't see most of her face, y'see—but she had long hair, black, a-and she looked real gaunt-like. Had dark eyes, too, couldn't tell y'what color, though, and—hey, wait, where are you going?"

Remus had spun on one heel and left the shop, with Bill and Ravenna in tow. He didn't stop until they had reached a secluded alleyway. Turning, he regarded Ravenna dryly. "Not exactly how I would have done it…"

Bill slapped Ravenna on the back. "Poor boy looked disappointed when we left!"

She flushed as deeply as the youth had, staring at the ground. "W-we needed to know who h-had been in…"

"And now we do," murmured Remus. "His description sounded very much like Bellatrix Lestrange. But why she would buy out Slug and Jiggers…" He trailed off, and the three could not seem to come up with any reason as to why Greyback, or Bellatrix, would want Wolfsbane potions. As Remus pointed out, Greyback ejnoyed being a vicious killer. He did not take the Wolfsbane potion.

"Okay, so we know Greyback has help with whatever he's doing—whatever it _is_ he's doing… we've still no clue. But we're still potionless," pointed out Ravenna, as the three turned to walk deeper into the alley. Now that they had proof—as little proof as it was—that yet another ex-Death Eater was out and about, standing still seemed hard.

Remus pursed his lips. "There are other apothecaries in London... not many, however, and none of them are as well-stocked as Slug and Jiggers."

"Well, it's not like we have a choice, is it?" stated Bill.

"No, we do not have a choice."

------

Ravenna, Remus, and Bill returned to the cottage later in the afternoon, all equally-stunned into a tired silence. Bill fell into a chair at the kitchen table, head coming to rest atop his arms, while Ravenna and Remus both peered out at the undulating ocean. They had been all over England, going to eight different apothecaries. They had even ventured into Knockturn Alley—against Remus' wishes—and had come up empty handed. Everywhere they went, the stores were sold out in every single item they needed.

"Is it silly to ask if this is all just a coincidence?" asked Ravenna. Bill's muffled scoff was enough to answer her question, though Remus spoke.

"Two stores. Maybe three. But eight apothecaries? All sold out? No, I think not. Fenrir's doing _something_," he murmured, moving slowly to the table to join Bill. Ravenna followed suit, trying to stifle the small twinge of fear in her stomach—no potion meant potential uncontrollable emotions. It was frightening.

Ravenna matched Bill's posture, though her face remained visible. "I wish Gawain was here," she murmured, feeling very childish for saying so. She was unapologetic, however, because she truly meant it. Robards would know what to do. He had answers, she was sure of it. But he was unconscious at St. Mungo's, and they were getting nowhere.

"As do I," murmured Remus, and in a startling move of kindness, he placed a comforting hand on Ravenna's shoulder. Ravenna knew that Remus was a benevolent man at heart, but on the surface he came across slightly detached and calculating, so she was surprised. Although the gesture was small and short-lived, Ravenna felt her spirits lift slightly.

Her spirits, however, soon began to dip again as the three started in on a very long conversation, trying to come up with any conclusions that made sense with the few clues they had. As the late afternoon began to turn into night, and they're conclusions began to grow more and more ludicrous, the itching feeling began to increase beneath Ravenna's skin. She grew more and more irritated at the incredulous sounds Bill made every time she suggested something, and Remus' lack of any visible fatigue just annoyed her. It was very late when Ravenna decided to fetch a spare bit of parchment from the kitchen, and a quill, to take some notes. After a few moments of aggravating silence, Ravenna decided to pose a theory that had been floating through her mind since the afternoon.

"Maybe—maybe Fenrir thinks that by disposing of all the ingredients, and—and by stealing all the known potions—that all the werewolves will ravage England at the next full moon, or something—" she said a bit too loudly due to the fact that both Bill and Remus had stopped coming up with ideas a quarter of an hour ago. At her suggestion, Bill simply shrugged, while Remus placed his chin on his closed fist.

It was happening again. That red haze, that unneeded rage. She had no reason to be so angry. Really, she didn't. But she was tired, and she was scared, and she felt like she was the only one trying to figure out what was going on. It was as if Bill and Remus didn't care. The thing was, Ravenna knew this wasn't true… but she couldn't help it. The anger was so seductive.

"Y'know what, fine," she said, even louder than before. " I think I'll just go, I don't know, talk to a wall. At least then I'll be able to have a conversation. Hey, it may be my echo, but it's a start."

"Ravenna…" began Remus, but Ravenna had fled to the small sitting room, standing rigidly in the corner. She was beginning to shake. Something was bursting to come out of her, and she couldn't contain it. Turning, she was annoyed to see that Remus had followed her. "Ravenna—" he repeated, but she jumped on his sentence before he could continue.

"You know what? Don't. I don't care if my ideas are ridiculous. At least _I'm_ trying. I know you're not the one who the Prophet's labeling a liar, but you could at least attempt to stay awake during a conversation!"

Remus frowned. "I know you're struggling right now," he said evenly. "But you are not angry at me."

Ravenna laughed, a high, shrill thing that she did not recognize. "Aren't I? I'm not the one too wrapped up in his past that he can't focus on the future!" The man's stare grew considerably colder, but he didn't say anything. This only spurred Ravenna on, an avalanche that had to reach the bottom of the hill before it could stop. "That's right. Bill sees it, too, you know. It's been five years, Remus! Isn't it time you—you… we have _new_ problems to solve, and if you're just going to mope in the corner, then—"

"Shut up, you ignorant woman."

It had been a mere whisper, but the words were like a slap to Ravenna. She had never seen Remus look more wolf-like than he did now, and his reserved rage was more frightening than if he had attacked her. Ravenna's sudden fear of Remus was like a sudden antidote to her anger poisoning, and everything she had said came rushing back to her, the full, hurtful magnitude of it. She wanted to say something, but Remus wasn't done.

"If you can't see that I'm trying to help you, that I'm doing everything I can, you aren't as bright as I thought you were," he hissed through clenched teeth, holding back everything she knew he was feeling.

Tears welled in Ravenna's eyes. Never, in her entire life, had she felt so ashamed. A noise behind Ravenna told her that Bill was standing in the doorway. She didn't know how much he had heard, and she didn't want to know.

Unable to speak, unable to apologize, unable to even think, Ravenna turned on the spot and the cottage disappeared, replaced by a dark hallway. It took her a moment to realize that she had apparated, as Remus had done the other night, without even thinking. As her eyes grew adjusted to the dark, Ravenna began to realize her familiar surroundings. She was at St. Mungo's.

Knowing nothing could make what she had said to Remus right, Ravenna began to stumble down the abandoned corridors, just wanting to seek solace in the unconscious presence of Gawain Robards. He wouldn't judge her, because he couldn't. Tears were streaming down her face as she walked, and she wondered if Remus would ever forgive her.

It wasn't until Ravenna was at Robards' door that she realized there were hushed voices coming from the room, and they didn't sound like any healers she knew of. Pausing, Ravenna held her breath and listened.

"Alright, give it here!"

"Hurry, Bellatrix! We don't have much time!"

Bellatrix Lestrange was in Robards' room.

_HOLY SHIT THAT WAS LONG. Sorry. Again, this is all over the place. I'll extensively edit later. MWAH._


End file.
